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I feel sad today. More than sad, actually, but that’s not what this post is gonna be about.

It’s about the opposite of sadness. It’s about someone who makes me feel truly, wonderfully blessed.

How Could I stay Angry With You?

I’m not often able to do this; when I’m tangled in the knots and waves of very dark despair, i get really pissed off when someone tries to remind me how lucky i am. In that moment, i don’t feel lucky, i feel desolate and frustrated, useless, worthless,, i resent everyone and everything. Attractive, i know. I’m working on it.

Case in point: this morning, i got pissed of at the Dali Lama. Erm…WTF? How can anyone be angry with the Dalai Lama? This is what i read (on His Holiness’ facebook page, no less!) that (in that moment) provoked the savage beast:

Given the scale of life in the cosmos, one human life is no more than a tiny blip. Each one of us is a just visitor to this planet, a guest, who will only stay for a limited time. What greater folly could there be than to spend this short time alone, unhappy or in conflict with our companions? Far better, surely, to use our short time here in living a meaningful life, enriched by our sense of connection with others and being of service to them.

Yes, i know. Insane. For one, it’s completely true. For two, it’s given in the spirit of love and self development. For three, it’s given by The Dalai Lama, one of the most beautiful and lovely and wise human beings on the planet. Honestly, what was my problem?

In that moment, it was the perceived implication that i choose to be unhappy or alone. Is it a choice? That’s a whole other philosophical sphere that i do not wish to enter here.

This is a post about something i am constantly grateful for; my Beautiful Dad.

As i sit here trying to articulate for you how i feel about him, i am genuinely overcome with emotion, with Pure Unadulterated Love.

If you met him in Tesco, you might think he was a bit of a strange man. I guess in lots of ways, he is a strange man. You’d think he was a nice man, but sometimes he struggles to communicate, which might make him seem a bit strange.

He’s in his mid fifties, mind mannered, biker, bald, guitarist. He doesn’t do any drugs whatsoever, not even tea or coffee or alcohol. He almost became a mormon once (they preyed on him after he divorced his adulterous ex-wife), and the Sober-Sydney thing stuck.

But he’s a bit of an adrenaline junkie, he’s a motorcyclist, and he dabbles with most outdoor sports; he likes cycling and hiking, he’s been paragliding, wind surfing and at the moment he’s got his sights on a jet ski. He loves rollercoasters and camping, gigs and festivals.

Ahhhh. Just talking about him makes me happier.

He’s an AWESOME engineer; he can fix/build pretty much anything, and was an aerospace engineer for most of his life. He thinks its nothing, not a skill, he has a very low self-esteem. But every week, i am amazed by some new thing he’s made or fixed.

Autism is a continuum, and we are all on there somewhere, the majority of us on the high cognitive function/full development end. I think it’s quite likely that my dad might be classed as borderline Aspergers. Certainly in his day, it’s very unlikely that he would have been diagnosed. I reckon he’s dyslexic too; i sort out all his paperwork because he says ‘too many words!’

His family was very poor, and dad had chronic asthma as a child. He was very ill and in a lot of pain, hardly ever at school ( in those days there was no such thing as inhalers; he had to sit at home with an oxygen mask on his face). He was always ill. He got beaten up and bullied regularly because of this. He has a stammer when he’s nervous too – it used to be really bad, i wonder if the bullying had something to do with it. Stammers are entirely psychological; there is no genetic cause and you are no more or less likely to develop a stammer if your parent suffered with it.

He also endured a 30 year emotionally abusive relationship with my mother, which i’m certain didn’t help. During the end he suffered a nervous break down, depression and pneumonia.

He has suffered so much, and none of it he ever deserved.

He is the most thoughtful, kind, loyal person i know. He’s not one for words or grand gestures, but for the things that matter, you can depend on him two thousand percent. He regularly goes out of his way to help other people, for no personal gain (a trait he get’s from my nan <3). If you’re car breaks down on a cold stormy night, down a country lane miles from anywhere, you better hope it’s my dad who comes along first. Cos he’ll help you, for certain, and he won’t ask you for a thing in return. The world could do with a few more like him.

My happiest memories have been spent with him. He taught me to play guitar. He made us climb Ben Nevis when i was 10. He took me to The Glastonbury Festival when i was 11, where my whole world view expanded about a million miles. When i was 16, he made me go on what was then the fastest accelerating rollercoaster in the world. Last week he built me a custom-made adjustable tripod, so that i can make better animations. LEG END.

The best thing about him is: he is the only person i am and have always been completely sure loves me completely and unconditionally. I am completely honest with him about everything, and despite his disapproval sometimes, he always supports me. I will always, always, always be eternally grateful to the universe for giving me a dad that loves so perfectly.

Just as i was writing that last sentence, he stumbled in, in his motorcycle gear, big smile on his face, to wave to me and tell me he is back home.